Fevered
by Bastila
Summary: Alucard goes on a night wander through the mansion. His master has done the same, little has he guessed. Questionable activities ensue when the two meet... Yay? ...Not a songfic. No.


Alucard paced silently through darkened halls, enjoying the complete stillness of night in a way that was almost obscene. He felt no compulsion to be anything here. There was only the dark to keep him company, and it was long past midnight, so it was hardly possible that he would meet anyone on his aimless wanderings through the mansion. Yes, he so enjoyed the purity that these hours afforded him, night after night. That was, if the vampire could ever describe himself as pure.

He glanced out of a broad window and saw it was cloudy now, close to rain. The air had a tang of water to it, even inside. Briefly he frowned as he wondered if his master had closed her bedroom window- she often left it open in the evenings, and lately fell asleep before closing it. Integra, when she slept, slept like the dead: gone to oblivion in the only time she could be anything other than alert and razor sharp. She deserved it, and while she was vulnerable Alucard was at his most vigilant. His frown shifted fluidly into a wry, predatory smile of lips curved over fang as he became amused at his own tenderness. He knew she would wake in daylight soaking wet before waking in the small hours to keep dry.

For a guarded knight of the realm, she was easy to read. One had only to look at what she kept hidden in order to realize what was most important to her. Alucard knew that no one else had learned that technique, which was what kept her safe from weakness. He was hers to command; it did not matter if she let him see the faults cracking her will, and he was the only one to love her for them. In some perverse turn of events monster had fallen for master, and master had fallen for monster. Ironically, the thing she kept most hidden was what he saw the clearest- Integra loved him, and more than as a pet, though he was sure he made a good one.

Alucard let her keep up the pretense that their relationship was nothing beyond that of what it appeared to be. Of course they had done nothing, but the more time he spent with her, the more he ached for it to happen. He, though, was as much of an adept at hiding his emotions as she was. They were content to understand each other in the unspoken and never lapsed into reality, which kept both of their feelings acceptably muted. If he pressed her, he already knew he could not keep himself in check.

He turned a corner into a wide corridor that was darker than the hallway had been. Tapestries draped dramatically over the windows blocked the dim, cloud-filtered moonlight that threw everything into a dreamlike, shadowed perspective.

Quiet but strong footsteps fell behind him and Alucard paused, not bothering to turn when he intoned softly, "You should be asleep."

"Sleeping is overrated," Integra answered coolly. "And I attempted."

He gauged her thoughts with his back turned, refusing to actually look at her before he could keep himself under control. Her mind was racing, but he would not be shocked to find her face as calm as ever when he saw it. He inhaled a deep, soundless breath and took in her scent- a shroud of pungent cigars' smoke, brisk lavender from her bath oils, and the worn leather of an armchair. They were no-nonsense smells, very fitting to her personality but intoxicating, especially when they mingled with her blood's odor. That heady smell teased him as it pounded just beneath her milky skin. When he caught the tiniest whiff of liquor, Alucard abruptly pivoted to meet her eyes. He did not like it at all when she drank.

"So is drinking," he murmured, giving the short statement the merest twinge of a double meaning, adjusting his trench coat.

Unsurprised that he could smell the alcohol, she smiled gently. "I have yet to see you practice restraint."

He raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

"Alucard, I'm not drunk and you know it. Stop being overzealous."

He savored her stern tone that held an echo of mischievousness. She was not drunk; he had thought perhaps she could be, but when he studied them he knew that the glint in her azure eyes was not borrowed from the infernal human high. What it was coming from did worry him, but it also had him anticipating.

"You aren't," Alucard confirmed. "What does my master will then, to have followed me when she should be resting?"

He was determined to keep himself bantering and light. He noticed that her glasses were missing from her face, but he wanted to shoot himself for being so taken aback: of course they would be, if she had been trying to sleep.

Integra was sly. "Something you wouldn't do unless I ordered you to."

He began to walk on. She followed him wordlessly until they came to a gallery, slightly illuminated through intricate stained glass windows.

"That could be any number of things," he commented.

She leaned against the frame of one of the windows, eyeing Alucard, a wider smile playing on her mouth. For once it clenched no cigar. From what he could see of her nightgown, it was simply cut but elegant, creamy silk given color only by the fact that her body was paler. The thin but expensive cloth would have been revealing, had she not been wearing a crimson and silver damask dressing gown. She wore no slippers on the cold hardwood flooring. Blonde hair streamed gracefully to her waist.

"I never would have guessed you could be coy," she said at last. Give her the behemoth desk she sat behind, and her pistol, and she could not be more enticing than she was this second.

"And I never would have guessed you could be so direct," he retorted, "Master."

"That makes two of us," she said simply. "You think I've practiced pick-up lines on Pip?"

Alucard could only stare at her bemusedly, intrigued. Intrigued more at his hesitation than her openness- his every cell was tingling pleasantly, so why shouldn't he take her up- but unexpectedly he felt she was too innocent, too fragile in all of her power, for him to do anything. Maybe it was because she was the one hinting, the one controlling the situation. But wasn't it always that way? The difference at the moment was that she had no comprehension of what she wanted, and how much he would give it. Integra's expression was knowingly smug as she watched his internal indecision. She drove him mad sometimes- mad enough to bite her, do everything he wanted to do to her but wouldn't allow himself to do.

Running his tongue lightly along his upper teeth, he observed, "You love seeing me like this."

"It makes me feel better that you can actually be indecisive," Integra said wryly, "yes."

"If you knew what I was thinking," he said slowly, "I doubt you'd like it." He pushed his long jet hair back lazily.

She smirked and he hid the tremor it brought on. He loved it when she did that, his master. "Really."

It wasn't a question. Things she said seldom were.

"Really."

Alucard wanted to provoke her. It was amusing. "If I gather what you're delicately stepping around, you would _dearly_ take pleasure in keeping me in- or getting me out of- that leather atrocity you found me in years ago?" She was such a little thing then. Little, but full of fight and intelligence- when had she turned into this?

She snorted. "Walter might be too shocked," she said flatly.

"I still have it," he offered, grinning.

"Don't tempt me."

Before he noticed she was moving, she had inched up to him until her head was right at his shoulder's level. Integra looked up at him intently, expression still playful but becoming more serious now. She didn't quite realize what this restraint was costing him, he thought suddenly, but she was catching on. What he felt wasn't a simple infatuation, or even a morbid lustful obligation to a woman who dominated him. Concerning Integra, Alucard could not only think carnally, though it might have made things simpler. He gazed down into her face stoically. Against the dark jeweled hues of the glass, she looked quite beautiful.

"Sir Integral," Alucard said levelly. "Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. I _live_ to serve, my lady." He infused his voice with the appropriate irony- _he_ would not take _her_.

Against his better judgment Alucard allowed her to lean closer, upwards, to kiss him. While she wasn't saying a word aloud, and would not, she was yelling the order in her mind. He did not know if once he had started he could stop himself. Alucard needed her to understand that, and if she accepted it, then fine. If not, then he would have to end it before things became too… complicated.

Unconsciously he deepened their kiss, savoring the feel of her soft lips and oddly, their slight suggestion of the brandy she had drunk. His own parted as she hesitatingly licked them, and he smiled as he gently drew her tongue into his mouth, encouraging her. She was so unsure of herself it was almost comical. This was Integra- someone who was never, ever uncertain of herself.

He groaned quietly as her arms circled up around his neck, pulling him closer to her, and he couldn't tell if it was a sound of frustration or anticipation. She was such a paradox, such a disarming mix of both confidence and bewilderment. When he felt her begin to pull away, his hands tangled into her hair to stop her and instinct took over. They slowly, teasingly caressed their way onto her neck, and he felt her quiver. He couldn't have her neck, he reminded himself, certainly not now, and probably not ever. He was glad he had kept his gloves on earlier, because now they were acting as a physical reminder of what was off-limits. If he could feel her neck with his own skin…

She gasped as he lightly bit the inside of her lip. But even that nip was enough to draw blood. The skin there was tender and thin, his teeth too sharp to keep from breaking it no matter how controlled he was. Despite himself, and in spite of feeling her stiffen and then moan as she registered what had happened, he tasted her blood. He ran his hands along her body, which was taut, still fighting him, because she had been schooled her whole life to fight his kind. He could understand his confusion. Pure impulse was driving him forward; his common sense was trying to rein him in.

Never had Alucard been so complete as he was now. His master tasted potent, alive and intensely sweet without being cloying. He knew she was strong, but this affirmed it- she was a born leader, and she was his, all his. She was indeed fit to be the Hellsing family's head- no wonder her blood had first awoken him, though the taste, until now, had been just a memory and nothing more. It wasn't even a taunt. Thinking of that night brought back the reek of her uncle's blood, so it was better not to recall at all. Alucard would never have served him willingly, but Integra he wholeheartedly followed.

Even the tiny amount of blood that was seeping into his mouth was enough to make him ecstatic, more so than its scent he caught whenever he was near her. She eventually pressed closer to him when he wouldn't back off, giving into herself although she still had her misgivings, and he knew it. He in turn leaned Integra against the teak paneled wall at her back, guiding her away from the window. As carefully as he could, Alucard drew more blood from her, taking in metallic sweet that was uniquely Integra, like a man imbibing his favorite wine. Finally he possessed her as much as she possessed him. But he had to stop. This could hurt her, and it would torture him if he continued.

After what seemed like only seconds to him, Alucard drew back, forcing himself away. Suddenly ashamed, he wiped his mouth roughly. No, she wouldn't hold with apologies. That would not do.

Then he looked at her boldly, even though he wanted all of her now and was afraid to admit it.

"Master," he breathed. He was shivering with yearning, but suddenly, he desperately wanted Integra to know that he hadn't tasted her on purpose. Maybe he had_ wanted_ to, but he definitely had not wanted it without her permission. When she looked at him obdurately he inclined his head.

"It won't happen again." He reached out a gloved hand, but let it drop.

The emotions he was picking up off of her were not all based off of anger. Knowing her, she was more irritated at herself than at him. And she had loved that kiss, improper as it had been. Integra sighed deeply, still staring at him. Such a contradiction she was. As if in a trance, she reached a hand up to her lips, massaging them with half a thought, her fingertips coming away crimsoned. Such a conflict- she pulled him forward and pushed him back at the same time. He resisted the urge to laugh at her- at the entire situation.

Bowing, knowing that nothing more now needed to be said, he strode off into the darkness. She would not trail him. It was better to leave things alone. If he had the chance to take her blood again, he would only want to finish the job correctly. She would make an exquisite vampire; the thought of her being invincible and young forever darkly excited him. But she was his master: he had to protect her, even from himself, if it came to that.

He halted...

Then turned back. She had not moved from where he had left her, standing as though she was pure marble. He advanced towards her slowly with an intentionally deliberate pace. He was giving her the chance to refuse by leaving. The trace of blood that still was on her lips shown, ruby red, and he began to smile when she only regarded him in her imperious way. The invitation that lurked in her eyes was pronounced but would never be made verbal... still, it was enough for him...

* * *

With a start, Alucard awoke. _That_ had been a vivid dream. He didn't need sleep, but occasionally he dozed off and his mind... well, his mind went places it should ultimately avoid. Grumbling, he wondered vaguely why he had to be chivalrous in his dreams when he was in the afterlife. Why did he wake at the more... pleasing… parts? It wasn't as though Integra could order him out of those. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. And it wasn't as though he actually knew firsthand what she would feel like… how she would react to him… God, the woman was a virgin. It added to the steel of her personality, but it made her vulnerable, and not just physically. He would have to go slowly in more ways than one.

Smirking at his folly, Alucard shook his head. As if he would ever have the chance. He lolled his head back on the chair.

Well then.

Would he ever want to take away his Integra's humanity?

The idea of making her like him would not leave his mind any time soon.

Quickly he reminded himself of the times he was jealous of humans… their stupid, driven tenacity to live, and their surprise when death came... even though it was coming to all of them. As if by fighting it they could avert it. And Integra had that spark, but in a different way- she accepted the fact that she would die, and could die young no matter how many times he saved her- so she was calmer, more rational.

The most essential question he faced was excruciating, even when theoretical. Could Alucard watch her grow old, then? Watch her die in a way that he could never hope to stop in his wildest, most cunning scheming? She would waste away, weaken. It was inevitable. He would be here still long after she was gone. Alucard had been able to see other mortals die like that, but he could not just stand by impassively and let his master's death come to her in the form of old age, then remain in his right mind. He loved her too much not to mourn or come undone. But he wasn't sure that he was prepared to take her mortality from her as much as the option called to him. He mustn't tread that path.

Then could he even do what he had done in his dream?

Alucard chuckled hollowly. It was thoughts like these that caused him to wander around the mansion like a wraith when he was not out doing more important things. After all, he had a veritable eternity. He could afford to be contemplative sometimes.

Stretching as he rose from the chair he had been sleeping in, he mumbled to himself, "You lovesick, horny bastard."

The library. That was where he was now- _not_ ambling without a course, and decidedly _not_ carrying Integra off in a blood-heightened passion. Unfortunately.

Wrestling on his coat, he began to walk, leaving the lights off.

Maybe it was just his imagination- but he thought the air carried the edgy hint of rain.

* * *

_Author's ramble: _

_As most of my fan-fictions tend to run, this one was going to be humorous until my brain decided to be _decidedly_ not. I know some people were likely pissed off that I didn't indicate it as a dream scene beforehand, so you might have been screaming, "They would _never_ do this, you ignorant sow" throughout your reading. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Well, not really, but I do like being polite. I'm happy with the way this turned out._

_And as far as my title goes- yes, it is a song. I find it fitting to the story, though obviously this is not a song-fic. I don't particularly find much creativity in those._

_Lastly, thanks to people who have been reviewing my work, Hellsing or otherwise. It is appreciated, and the fact that you have braved the sarcasm_ _on my profile page is amazing. Kudos to you!_


End file.
